


We Like It Here

by wardenwolfgang



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, band au, futaba gets a nasty triangle solo y'all are just gonna have to trust my word on that one, they play some sort of jazz mostly but idk there might be a lil bit of funk and rock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-05 05:44:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11007204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wardenwolfgang/pseuds/wardenwolfgang
Summary: Besides reforming society by changing the hearts of corrupted evil-doers, the Phantom Thieves are also a jazz fusion combo bent on occasionally disturbing Yongen-Jaya nightlife with sick solos and tight grooves.





	1. Harlem Nocturne

**Author's Note:**

> I have never written a fanfiction before, ever in my life. Thank you for your patience.
> 
> Took the title of the work from a Snarky Puppy performance. I thought it'd fit pretty well.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They jam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never written a fanfiction before, ever in my life. Thank you for your patience.
> 
> Took the title of the work from a Snarky Puppy performance. I thought it'd fit pretty well.

“The place is yours. Don’t forget to lock up.”

The bells above the door jingled as Sojiro walked out, briefly pausing to give a few, stern words towards the drummer in particular. “Easy on the fills, will you? I swear I can hear you from my bedroom window. This is a residential neighborhood where people actually sleep at night. Take it down a notch, kids.”

And with that he was off, leaving Leblanc’s house band to fuck off and do their thing.

That’s generally what the house band did anyways. They just kinda fucked off and did their own thing.

Actually, they weren’t so much of a house band. Leblanc never had the space for performers, nor was there ever enough customers to make the effort of clearing up space and building a stage worthwhile. They played in the attic, which provided ample space for a relatively small ensemble while still leaving Akira enough space to get a good night’s sleep. Running off after school to beat crooks and change society was the aspect that put the Phantom Thieves in the eyes of the public, but the streets of Yongen-Jaya have come to know this group as either a well-rehearsed jazz band or a noisy nuisance.

Their instruments rose above the messy jungle of cables and makeshift microphone setups. Taking up the most space was a dusty Yamaha three-piece set with a few equally filthy unmarked cymbals set upon a tattered carpet. A cocktail of duct tape and various gel window clings lined the surfaces of the battered heads. Ryuji had taken to the drums in years past, much to the dismay of the residents in his apartment building. In his time playing, he’s only ever replaced his heads and sticks perhaps once or twice.

“Alright, let’s frickin’ jam!” he shouted enthusiastically, taking a seat upon the drum throne (a dilapidated office chair with the backrest removed) and twirling a stick to the best of his ability. Leblanc’s attic made a fitting home for this ramshackle kit, more so than the littered Sakamoto residence ever would.

From an opposite end of the space, Yusuke carefully turned the tuning pegs on the headstock of his guitar: a Squier Telecaster decorated in tiny nicks and scratches, set up with an equally cheap and beaten reverb amp. He couldn’t possibly get his hands on a higher-end axe, but a guitar’s a guitar and it’ll serve the same purpose either way. His nimble fingers made use of the neck’s action, rolling through scales and fluttering licks only befitting to a man of the arts such as himself.  
Music wasn’t so much of a serious pursuit for him as it was a hobby he has come to understand quite well. Yusuke has always been a sharp visual learner who viewed positions on the fretboard as various shapes that connect to specific sounds and tones. Performance came to him just as naturally as any other art.

“Check, check. 1, 2...” Ann projected into the microphone which rested upon the only real boom mic stand the band owned. She made for a good, versatile singer due in part to being bilingual, and also having an impressive vocal range. She knew a broad array of standards ranging from American jazz ballads to Japanese contemporary pop.  
Equally matched in her singing was her ability to work an alto saxophone, an instrument she’s played in the past within her brief time in an elementary school ensemble. Her signature reed instrument sat proud upon a tripod rest near the floor awaiting her to run through some scales and riffs.

“That probably sounds as good as we can get!” Morgana projected beyond Ann’s microphone taps. For a cat as nimble as him, he lacked the dexterity (and rhythm, quite shockingly) to participate in anything beyond plugging wires and operating the mixer. He jumped from the monitor and climbed on top of an amp running through an aged Casio keyboard with Akira at the helm.  
Beyond spinning pencils in class and ripping the faces off shadowy creatures with unsurpassed grace and skill, one of Akira’s natural talents was working the keys. He grew up trained in classical and baroque, but he did find comfort in simply playing whatever he liked once he came to understand the piano’s intricacies. It became a hobby he valued so dearly, hammering the keys of his family’s upright when nobody was home. Living his probation time in Tokyo constantly surrounded by noises of all sorts left him longing for some time between him and a set of eighty-eight keys, but being surrounded by such a close, motley crew so dedicated to their art made his time in the city so worthwhile.

“What are we running today?” Akira rolled through a C major arpeggio while scrolling through patches.

“Might I suggest Harlem Nocturne? It has been a while since we’ve played it, after all,” Yusuke responded.

“Actually, yeah. Dude, I’m feeling that one. Had it stuck in my head on the way here,” Ryuji dropped his sticks to pick up a set of wire brushes from the floor. “Plus, we gotta get Ann back on that sax!”

“And we went through all this trouble to mix the mic through the monitor!” Morgana exclaimed, rather peeved. His tiny paws batted against the amp’s mesh screen.

“Let’s do it anyways! I’ve got to practice my solo scales on this one anyways!” Ann replied, picking the alto up from its metal throne. “Besides, I was getting kinda worn from doing all those Frank Sinatra songs from last week.”

Immediately, Ryuji swept a beat on the snare, swinging slowly but steadily. Yusuke knew precisely when to join in, gracefully strumming chords and subtly picking out tidbits of the melody ever so carefully. Akira faded in, pressing the keys with the weight of a feather. For such a soft entrance, he surprisingly carried a sense of boldness to his sound, displaying an expression only previously seen from him when we was amongst the darkness of a Palace, tearing the faces off of underleveled Jacks with a confident smirk.  
And then Ann’s melody flowed into the mix. The band sounded so smooth, but remained delightfully tight. Not a single note overpowered the other, not even during solo trades. It almost seemed as if they’ve been playing together for their entire lives by the way their improvisations bounced off one another like some sort of call and response. Ann would play a lick and Akira would return it with ease. Ryuji would do a fill and Yusuke would pick up right where he left off. The cycle continued with each variation more sublimely intricate than the last. The volume rose and not a beat was missed, dragged, or rushed. Their noise reached a forceful climax before carefully fading out.

“Looking good, guys!” Morgana rolled over and stretched. “Or I guess the proper thing to say would be ‘Sounding good!’”

“Really? I was almost totally out of key on one of the solo trades,” Ann shrugged and laughed it off.

“It’s jazz! You can get away with it if you call it ‘experimental’,” Ryuji cackled.

“Splendid work, everyone. I’m actually rather surprised we kept a consistent tempo throughout the entire piece,” Yusuke turned the volume down on his guitar as he gave it a final short strum. “Akira, your thoughts?”

Akira stared intently at the Casio’s keys in a brief contemplative silence before turning to the group.

“We need a bassist.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CH 1
> 
> Spoiler alert: Makoto plays a five string Ibanez bass and it's dope as fuck.


	2. By Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto plays a bassline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's track comes from my fav band. It's not exactly jazz.  
> Consider this an act of favoritism.

“Holy shit, for real!?”

Ryuji sucks at keeping his voice down. He has always sucked at keeping his voice down, especially in public places such as a walkway in Shibuya where an entire audience of commuters could hear him. His big, stupid mouth is in fact the reason why the Phantom Thieves were dragged into this whole mess with Makoto, the mafia, and the Palace that swallowed all of Shibuya into one deep, nasty Metaverse dungeon. However, it seems things have turned out for the better, and Makoto herself made a brilliant addition to the Phantom Thieves as an advisor who was so desperately needed to keep these kids in check.

“I’ve played bass for several years now, actually,” she answered. “I suppose I was drawn to it because everyone wanted to play guitar when I was in elementary school. What started as a hobby grew into somewhat of a passion and my sister gave me a five-string bass as my birthday gift last year.”

Morgana popped out and gasped. “Holy crap, that’s--“

“BADASS! THAT’S BADASS, DUDE!” Ryuji enthusiastically interrupted.

“And awfully convenient!” Ann gleefully added. “Our band has been looking for a bassist for quite some time now.”

“You have a band?” These past few weeks have been an endless whirlpool of surprises for Makoto.

“Besides changing the hearts of society’s most infamous and corrupted individuals, we’re also a rhythm section after hours at Cafe Leblanc in Yongen-Jaya,” Yusuke explained.

“What kind of music do you play?”

“I don’t really know,” Akira shrugged.

“Jazz seems to be our main thing right now but we’ve done other stuff before,” Morgana said.

Akira pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. “We have your number and IM, right? If it’s not too much trouble, come join us sometime. We need someone like you.”

Makoto grinned. “I’d love to.”

  
\------

  
Setting the final washed dish on its drying rack, Akira grabbed his phone off the counter and responded to some messages.

 

  
**PHANTOM QUEEFS 7:35 PM**

 

**luigi sakamoto: DUDE who tf changed the gc name to THIS**

**❤︎Ann❤︎: Akira probably**

**your boy: :-)**

**luigi sakamoto: nice job man**

**your boy: :-)))**

**your boy: leblance boutta close in a few, i’m done washing dishes**

**Fantastic Mr. Fox: I”MS ON MY QWAYY^$**

  
Akira fucking cackled. Yusuke’s phone has been broken recently and he hasn’t had the money to replace it or fix it at the moment. The screen’s been cracked to the point where it impedes his ability to use the keyboard for texting, leading to some hilarious results every single time.

  
**❤︎Ann❤︎: Wait yusuke are we heading over right now**

**Fantastic Mr. Fox: I :MD SHUNGTRY**

**your boy: yeah i guess you can come down if you wanna**

**your boy: wait where’s makoto**

**BADASS Makoto: I’m here**

**❤︎Ann❤︎: Can you make it tonight??**

**BADASS Makoto: Unfortunately I can’t! But I can come on Thursday because my sister works overtime that day and I can sneak out all night**

**luigi sakamoto: awhhhhhhhhhhwhwhhw**

**❤︎Ann❤︎: Boooooo**

**your boy: morgana says boo**

**your boy: wait hold on there’s a song i wanna try**

**your boy: it might sound a lil crazy but it’s really simple i promise**

**luigi sakamoto: bro i s2g if this is some more 7/4 shit**

**your boy:<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p-e6-jjbrs0>**

**luigi sakamoto: nvrmind this is a BANGER**

**BADASS Makoto: What part of this is “really simple”**

**your boy: it’s not that bad guys i’ve been practicing this one and i’ve written a chord chart**

**your boy: it sounds a lil shitty on the casio but i swear this is gonna be good**

**❤︎Ann❤︎: Okay fineeeeee we’ll get started 2nite**

**luigi sakamoto: aighttt omw**

**your boy: hey yusuke i’m getting snacks real quick do you want anything**

**Fantastic Mr. Fox: VJPDSFA}**

**your boy: once more with feeling**

**Fantastic Mr. Fox: CHIPS PleASE.**

**your boy: yessir**

  
\------

  
Thursday rolled around and for the first time in recorded history, the group had a bassist in their arsenal. Sometimes miracles happen and they certainly do up in the Leblanc attic behind closed doors. Sure enough, Makoto walked up the stairs with a heavy zipped bag strapped across her shoulders. Yusuke trailed behind, lifting a heavy bass amp up each individual step.

“Oh my god, you made poor Yusuke carry that amp the entire way here,” Ann ran over to the stairwell to help the sorry soul with heavy lifting.

“Certainly not for free. I bought him food on the way here and watched him eat four cheeseburgers in one sitting,” Makoto placed her bag on the floor and unzipped it. “He’s much stronger than he looks.” Lo and behold, the gang was presented with Makoto’s beautiful beast: a shiny black Ibanez electric bass, probably the newest and cleanest instrument in the room. She was plugged in and ready to roll.

And so they rolled.

  
_“Regret less the knot, yes I give you the end to hold,_  
_And through darkness and earth wet I seek through the land to mould,”_

Their first time running through this song in full together was definitely less of a disaster, but not quite a success. Perhaps it would have been best not to play at full speed, since the group in its entirety seemed to lose traction trying to play those 16th notes as tightly as they wished.

But it was an experience they all needed: some pure, unadulterated fun.  
No shadows, no crooks, no shitty adults to ruin their good times.

 

  
“Oof, sorry guys. That was pretty bad on my part,” Ann apologized.

“Same here. I missed so much stuff--” Makoto continued, before getting interrupted by the drummer across the room.

“Whaaat!? You were amazing!” Ryuji glowed with joy and the rest of the band seemed to follow in turn.

“Especially that really fast part. You hit that right on,” Akira remarked.

“Great work, everyone,” Yusuke chimed in.

“Let’s run it again, but actually make sure to sound decent this time, alright?” Morgana quipped.

 

And they did, and they barely sounded any better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm breaking canon just a bit just to break Yusuke's phone. I'm sorry.
> 
> I love band AUs, but nowadays I see a bunch of them are about sex, drugs, and rock & roll kinda stuff. I hope to create something sorta lighthearted and goofy instead. I don't really listen to that much rock anyways.
> 
> Also, I don't really know how end notes work.


	3. My Favorite Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Everybody makes mistakes. Everybody has those days."  
> \- Hannah Montana, 2006

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I kinda suck at updating at a consistent schedule. Been kinda busy this week graduating and I'll be moving to college soon so that'll probably put a damper on things but here's a chapter for you all to read. Also I wrote this on a different word processor than the previous chapters so everything might look hella weird. Sorry.

“Yeah, I tried playing piano once when I was little but I gave up after a few lessons. I kinda sucked,” Futaba explained.

 

Cue a collective sigh of disappointment from the group.

 

“But on the topic of music stuff, I’ve mixed audio before. These AKG headphones aren’t just for show.”

 

The Phantom Thieves’ miraculous streak of somehow finding party members who are also skilled instrumentalists has come to a conclusion. However, Futaba provided the band with an imperative skill they’ve gone on for too long without: audio engineering. For sure, the girl’s always been a whiz with computers. Certainly she’s absolutely no stranger to digital audio manipulation. It’s one thing to have Morgana scrambling around the studio, plugging in quarter-inch cables and pawing at the dials on the floor monitor so that everything sounds good, but it’s an entirely different ballgame having someone who can work a mixer and master every single track to sound cohesive and professional.

 

“Holy shit, can you help us record an album!?” Ryuji exploded, hands slamming down on the Leblanc booth table out of sheer excitement.

 

“I mean, sure. If you guys really want to,” Futaba responded after a sip of coffee.

 

“That would be so cool!” Ann beamed, almost just as thrilled as Ryuji. “We can totally sell our music on the internet and we’d be huge!”

 

“Aren’t we already huge on the internet?” Akira asked from behind the counter, decked out in his usual barista attire.

 

“Yeah, but this time we can finally get some recognition for our talent!” Morgana hopped from the bar to the booth. “Actually, I think thievery is our talent. Music is definitely our other thing.”

 

“Sorry to interrupt the fun, but I’m afraid all we’ve been doing so far is covers of other songs. We’d all be in deep legal trouble if we’re making money off of other people’s property.”

 

“I’m already in deep legal trouble,” Akira snarked. “I suppose it wouldn’t be good to have ‘copyright infringement’ on my record along with ‘physical assault’.”

 

“Plus, I’m sure that if we somehow manage to pay the rights for all the songs we’ve done, we’d lose more money than we could ever gain,” Makoto continued.

 

Bummer.

 

“Nonetheless, I still believe it would be good to record some of our sessions,” Yusuke dug deep into a bag of shrimp chips. “Perhaps we’d be encouraged to play better if we sound better.”

 

“Inari knows his shit, guys,” Futaba piped up. “Wouldn’t it be great if you guys had more than one microphone and you didn’t sound like garbage?”

 

“It certainly won’t hurt to try,” Akira poured his last cup and joined the team at their booth. “Let’s just record a song and see how it’ll go.”

 

“Great!” Futaba pumped her tiny fists up in the air. “But I’ll need some help setting some stuff up in the attic.”

 

 

\-------

 

 

By the time Leblanc closed for the night, the attic was lined with towels and blankets to soak up the room’s acoustics. Condenser mics on stands were scattered to each amp and drum around the space. Futaba remained at Akira’s rickety wooden desk, typing away on her laptop and sliding some switches and knobs on a small mixer. The band has just completed their soundcheck to the best of their abilities.

 

“So what shall we record today?” Yusuke fiddled with the pickup switch on his Fender.

 

“Coltrane, guys! Let’s run some Coltrane,” Ann excitedly rolled her fingers over the keys on her sax.

 

“GIANT STEPS, LET’S DO THIS!” Ryuji laughed and played a few bars of a really fast swing beat.

 

“God, no! I think I’d somehow die playing that,” Ann responded, coughing, like, a lil’ bit. “Let’s try something else. I’m pretty sure I can somehow play ‘My Favorite Things’ on an alto.”

 

“Yeah, sure. We can do that,” Akira gave a count and Futaba pressed the record button.

 

The song opened with a sequence of hits from the piano, drums, and bass before the melody flowed in. Despite how beautifully they started off, they were quickly interrupted by Futaba yelling from the corner of the room.

 

“WAIT GUYS, HOLD ON HOLD ON, I THOUGHT MAKOTO WAS MIC’D UP BUT I GUESS SHE’S NOT,” she scrambled to connect the bass to the correct channel, tapping the microphone before letting the team try another take. “OKAY GUYS, BASS IS IN THE MIX. WE’RE GOOD.”

 

Futaba pressed the record button and the gang was all set to go once more. Each instrument delivered its hit perfectly and punctuated.

 

At least until Ryuji’s stick flew across the room.

 

“Ah, ow! Crap!” Ryuji’s grip had just accidentally loosened, allowing the stick to bounce off the ride cymbal, ricocheting from his face to the piano amp. The music came to a grinding halt.

 

“Meooow!” Morgana, who was peacefully resting on top of the keyboard amp, jumped and backed away.

 

“Sorry! That barely ever happens!” The drummer ran across the room to pick up his stick.

 

“Didn’t this happen last week?” Ann giggled as she watched her friend scramble to pick up a single drum stick from the floor.

 

“There’s a difference between dropping a stick in the middle of a song and having it totally fly off and almost kill someone!” Ryuji soon returned to his drum throne and started the countoff once more. “No more interruptions, guys!”

 

And that would have been great if they went off without any more interruptions. Soon enough, they’d run into another complication.

 

And another.

 

And yet another.

 

The cycle continued. As soon as the opening notes hit, a loud deafening sound suddenly came from one of the amps, causing the song to come to a full stop yet again.

 

“Fuckin’ Inari! Unless you’re Jimi Hendrix, there’s no way that feedback’s gonna sound any good on this song!” Futaba was ready to explode. After getting chewed out by everyone, Yusuke switched out his guitar cable and continued on.

 

The night would continue on like this. They’d make it as far as the main melody of the song before knocking a mic down or playing a wrong note. Everyone grew increasingly exasperated with each time they’ve had to start over and press the record button again. After so many takes of the same shit over and over again, the gang decided to take a break and eat some snacks downstairs.

 

\-------

 

“Ugh, why do we sound like completely different people when we’re trying to record something?” Ann almost fell face-first into a plate of castella cake.

 

“I’m sure it’s because recording a song perfectly within one take puts a lot of pressure on all of us as a band,” Makoto responded, head in her arms and ready to go to sleep for the night. “We’re not exactly professionals.”

 

“Performance anxiety. I think we all collectively have it,” Akira grimaced and poured himself another cup of espresso. “This was harder for Futaba, wasn’t it? It must be crazy having to go back and forth from the mixer to yelling at us to get our act together.”

 

“Actually, I enjoyed it,” Futaba piped up.

 

Cue a collective “WHAAAAT!?” from the group.

 

“Yeah, I haven’t really done anything like this before, y’know like, working with my friends, let alone live musicians,” she continued, twirling a lock of her hair in her fingers. “I was screaming at you guys out there but I still had a lot of fun each time one of you started in the wrong key or toppled a microphone over. I guess that’s what _‘My Favorite Things’_ is about, yeah? You really gotta appreciate the little things in life to have a good time. I guess all these moments with you guys are my favorite things.”

 

The band was astonished, left in a brief, remarkable silence.

 

“...Sorry, that might have been a lot. Uh--”

 

“No, Futaba, that was brilliant,” Yusuke assured her. “I’m sure all of you had as much fun as I did.”

 

“Yeah, I loved watching each and every one of you mess up,” Morgana laughed and rolled over on the Leblanc counter.

 

“I say we just keep it rolling this time around. If we make a mistake, just leave it in the recording,” Akira gathered his friends to the stairwell. “Are we ready to go?”

 

“Ready as we’ll ever be!”

 

 

\------- 

 

 

 _“When the dog bites_ __  
_When the bee stings_ __  
_When I'm feeling sad_ __  
_I simply remember my favorite things_  
_And then I don't feel so bad”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on true events from my band! Recording music is hard, but I did get a new mixer recently.
> 
> Also based on this performance of My Favorite Things.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1kPXw6YaCEY&t=1046s  
> I'm a horn player amongst other things and I don't really know that much about reed instruments lol  
> Coltrane plays what appears to be a soprano sax for this song but let me indulge in some creative freedom to let Ann play this song on an alto.
> 
> Also if you've never listened to Giants Steps before, check that out. Shit's fuckin whack  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=30FTr6G53VU  
> I was gonna make this the main song for this chapter but I thought it was TOO MUCH
> 
> I also promised a triangle solo for Futaba but that's coming later...

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler alert: Makoto plays a five string Ibanez bass and it's dope as fuck.


End file.
